


Disgust

by mols, whenpaincomes (mols)



Series: Hospital AU [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Angst, Dick has OCD, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Other, hospital au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 20:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17926178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mols/pseuds/mols, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mols/pseuds/whenpaincomes
Summary: All he can feel. What makes him shake. What keeps his stomach tied up.





	Disgust

**Author's Note:**

> It's inserted on the Hospital AU, but before the hospitalization of Dick.

Sometimes when Dick wakes up with an erection, or even wet between his legs, the thoughts rush up inside his mind like cold water into his veins. Dick imagines licking it, touching the thing with his mouth. His mind doesn't stop when he asks so and the morbid movie keeps rolling in his brain. He swallows, throwing the covers off himself with exasperation. He gets out and up and he strides to the bathroom, he washes his face, he watches the drops rolling his face. He sees the fear, the despair in his eyes but as if controlled by the Devon, his mind comes back to those thoughts, with more images.

Dick walks to the toilet and relieving himself his thoughts become more intense, his body is shaking with disgust. His eyes trying to avoid the objects, the liquids, the dirty that trigger his memories, his imagination. He closes his eyes, pulls himself back, slides and drops against the wall across. He cradles his head with his hand.

What could be of him now?

A broken boy, a broken toy.

He cries, muffling the sobs against his long fingers.

His wet, red eyes meet the mirror again when he listens to his mom calling him for breakfast. He gets up and irons up while clearing his face from the tears. Dick gives himself a false small smile, genuine in his effort. It will have to do.

He breathes, swallowing the nausea, the terror, the hopelessness.

It will have to wait. This...mess.


End file.
